Could Be Worse
by Calamity Heart
Summary: A freak snowstorm keeping Sarada from flying home is just the latest of an entire business trip's worth of exhausting annoyances. Refusing to spend money on a hotel, she decides to stay the night at a friend's place! Things start to look up a little bit for Sarada, but with her friend's handsome, annoying older brother in town, the night is sure to get a bit more interesting...
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, hello! Just a quick little thing I've been thinking about doing, and finally worked up the energy to start on. I don't think this is going to be very long. I plan for this to be only four chapters long. It's my first AU fic, so I hope it turns out alright! Let me know in a review if I'm doing okay. :D**

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Sarada stares with wide eyes and slumped shoulders of despair at the departure board above her, and the long list of big red 'DELAYED' markers to the far left. She doesn't even have to look for her flight. _Every single _flight has been held over until tomorrow, due to the freak snowstorm, adding one more damning annoyance to the worst business trip in the world.

Her onyx eyes glare behind red-framed lenses at the endless flurry of flakes, frost, and mist whipping about in the evening air out the window as she crossly rolls her luggage through the terminal toward the front of the airport, heels clacking with every step amidst the equally annoying storm of footsteps and voices all around her.

The only thing that would have made this situation worse would be having to waste more money finding a hotel to stay in. Luckily for Sarada, with a flick of her Blackberry out of her purse, a couple of swift taps, and a weary collapse into one of the surprisingly comfortable lounge seats near the exit to the airport pickup, she puts a backup plan into action.

"_Hello~?"_

"Hey, Hima," sighs Sarada's relieved voice. If she had gone to voicemail, she might have just screamed. "I need a favor."

"_Oh, sure, Sarada! I'm not sure what I can do from here, though, and I thought they prohibited your phones on the plane."_

"Every fight is fucking delayed, Himawari." Sarada growls crossly, shaking her head. "I'm stuck here until tomorrow, and I'm not getting a hotel. Can I stay at your place, please?"

"_Um... Okay, sure, I guess I could see what I can do to accommodate you. Need me to come pick you up, or are you getting a taxi?"_

"I hate taxi service."

"_Mmkay. I'll be there in twenty minutes."_

"Ah… Thank you _so_ much, Hima!"

"_You owe me for this one, Uchiha!"_

Sarada manages to smile as she hangs up and puts her phone back. And then she waits, leaning back in her seat and staring coolly outside the glass terminal doors, at the twinkling of headlights and the shadows of cars drifting by in the heavy snow. A bunch of calm deep breaths and a few finger-combs through her straight black hair help to remind her that this trip could have been a lot worse.

Sarada began getting annoyed twenty-one minutes later, and began to pace with agitation by the time the twenty-eighth minute rolled around and Himawari's silver Prius pulled up out front. Sarada shot straight up out of her seat, grabbed her suitcase and baggage, and rushed right outside into the snow.

It was no less cold outside than when she first arrived at the airport. If anything, it'd gotten colder. Sarada's jaw clenched hard as she stepped up to the curb and threw her bags into the backseat of Hima's car as quickly as she could before climbing into the front seat, yanking her black heels off her stocking-covered feet, curling her toes and letting out a loud, dramatic sigh as she goes limp and Himawari pulls away.

"Sorry I'm late," Hima chuckles, fully bundled up in her heavy lavender coat and other winter gear. Sarada couldn't help but notice that she was driving in her mittens, and was _very_ tempted to say something about it, but she didn't feel like hearing Hima whine about how it was alright and that she was an expert driver. "You sound like you've had a rough day."

"Hima, this whole trip has been rough… I wish my father hadn't retired. The fucking penny-pinchers directing the firm now booked me a connected flight instead of a nonstop. I got here 5 hours later for $50 less on the firm's end. Fifty fucking dollars!" Sarada begins to vent, angrily putting her seatbelt on. "The conferences were shit. Both of them. Just reading a few scripts for a few hours and stupid rookies asking me questions about things they should have learned their first week. Some of them had the nerve to _sleep_ through my speeches! And that's not even getting into the reservation issues, the food poisoning, all the damn traffic… I hate this city… No offense."

"None taken!" Hima says, glancing over at her friend with a little smile before turning her eyes back on the road. "I hope seeing me and Chocho for lunch yesterday was enough to make up for it a little."

"A little…" Sarada sighs. "You know it's always good seeing you and those three stooges."

Hima gasps and giggles. "They aren't stooges! They're, like… the Three Musketeers! Or something like that."

"You know what they are? They're the three missing dwarves. Sassy, Snarky, and Slinky."

At this, Hima bursts into laughter, and Sarada can't help but smile a little as well.

"I am soooo gonna tell them you said that while I'm out with them tonight," Hima says, taking her hands off the wheel for a moment to wipe her eyes and fix her hood. Expert driver, indeed.

"Please do. I want Chocho to come over and square it off with me before I try to leave again tomorrow," Sarada jokes.

"A plus-size fashion model versus a paralegal. That's one for WorldStar!"

Both girls laugh, and Sarada turns her head to gaze out the window. Despite the bitter cold, the snow all around and up above made for a beautiful evening, and despite her annoyance, she felt like smiling. It _definitely_ could have been a lot worse.

0o0

Traffic and a couple of accidents kept the two of them on the road for forty-five minutes. While irritated, Sarada didn't mind too much, having Himawari beside her to talk to all the while. Her chatty friend almost never ran out of things to say, and Sarada was more than willing to let Hima gab and gossip the whole way back in her soft, chipper, soothing voice.

In the middle of one of Himawari's stories about a cute boy with a bowl cut she met at the gym a week ago, Sarada watches as they approach the driveway of Himawari's home, a rather large townhouse in one of the wealthier suburbs, with a finely manicured lawn and two garage doors. A sleek yellow Camaro sat idle in front of one of the doors, and Sarada blinks.

"…Y-Your brother's home?"

Hima lifts a brow at her friend as she sloppily pulls into the driveway, nearly swiping the mailbox and successfully tipping over her trash bin. Very expert driver.

"Oh, yeah. He came by like… three hours ago to crash. Had a hometown concert last night and he's supposed to be off again in a couple of days. I hope that's not a problem. I know you don't really like rock music…"

"Oh, no, no, no. It's no big deal…" Sarada says, shaking her head as the car stops. Hima hands her a small house key.

"Alrighty. Go on and hurry inside. I'll bring your stuff in," she says. "There's drinks in the fridge and Hamburger Helper in one of those cabinets in the kitchen in you want to make yourself something. I'm sorry I won't be able to stay and talk more tonight, but like I said, I'm going out with Inojin, Shikadai, and Chocho tonight, and I won't be back till late."

Sarada tilts her head. "Are you sure you want to be going out in this weather? It's freezing."

Hima rolls her eyes. "Pfft. A little snowstorm isn't going to keep Chocho from dragging us all to the club. I'll be fine. You just relax and get some rest; you deserve it."

Sarada nods quickly and slips back into her heels, taking a deep breath and stepping out of the car into the snow again. Her jaw clenches tight again and she prances as quickly as she can up the walkway, trembling fingers fumbling with the key before she finally gets it open and staggers in to the ear-stabbing din of an electric guitar blasting from some stereo inside.

Boruto was _definitely_ home, and the gentle smile had been able to keep during the car ride immediately melted once again into a cross little frown. As she kicks off her heels and steps down the main hallway further into the house, she half-expects to find him with some naked groupie in his lap, but is semi-relieved to find him just reclining on the couch with TMZ blaring out on the television.

What irked Sarada the most was the fact that Boruto wasn't paying attention to either the television _or_ the stereo. The blonde 'rock star' was slouching down, his headphones over his ears as he taps away mindlessly at some stupid little game on his fancy little tablet. With his black high-collared jacket, shiny black leather pants, topaz stud earrings, and the nose-tingling musk of top-dollar cologne, Sarada was absolutely certain that if she looked up 'douchebag' in the dictionary, she'd find a picture of Himawari's brother. It amazed her how the two of them could be related…

The cross young paralegal huffs, stomping into the living room and right past Boruto without him even noticing. As soon as Sarada cuts the stereo off, though, he furrows his brows and looks up from his tablet.

"The hell? Hey, I was listening to tha- Whoa."

He pauses, and Sarada feels a chill running up her spine as she can tell that the young man's bright blue eyes were travelling up and down her body, from her slimming and classy pin-striped business suit dress to her long, stocking-covered legs and feet. He was blatantly stripping her with his eyes, and the tingling she felt annoyed her even further.

"Hrm hm!" She clears her throat loudly, drawing his eyes back up to hers. "I'm Sarada. A friend of your sister's," she introduces herself as calmly as she can.

"Sweet. Nice to meet you, hot stuff," he snickers, setting down his tablet. "I'm Bolt. But I'm sure you've heard of me. I'm pretty big these days."

"That's your stage name." Sarada sets her hands on her hips as she speaks in a strict, scolding, and obviously irritated voice. "Your real name is Boruto Uzumaki, and that's what I'm going to refer to you as. The only reason I've heard of you is because my father, former chairman of U&amp;H International, and your father, CEO of Hokage Records &amp; Co., used to work together. That's how I know Himawari, and I heard about _you_ from her. I detest rock music in all its forms and make it my business to avoid that music genre entirely, so I would _not_ have heard of you otherwise."

Boruto chuckles and rolls his eyes.

"Well, damn! Someone's a bit cranky, eh? I got a couple of packs around here somewhere if you need to light up and unwind. And there's plenty of room on the couch to relax."

He shoots her a wink, and before the heat can rush to Sarada's face as she opens her mouth to retort, the front door opens again.

"Tch… So annoying…" she grumbles as she passes him, to which Boruto responds with a playful catty hiss. Sarada goes to help Himawari with the bags from the car, and the bundled-up woman sighs and looks up at her.

"Judging by your scowl, I'm guessing you met Boruto…" she says. "Please don't mind him too much. Sure, he can seem a little… unruly… but he's alright! I promise!"

"Hima, I'm pretty sure he just offered me weed. In _your_ house," Sarada murmurs, deadpan.

Himawari bites her lip. "Like I said, please don't mind him too much. He's seriously not that bad once you get to know him. Anyway, I gotta go, like, now. I'll be sure to tell Chocho what you said."

"Good. Love you."

"Love ya, too!" Hima calls as she steps out of the door again, leaving Sarada alone in her house with her annoying rocker brother…

The young paralegal sighs, then grimaces and presses her thighs together, almost forgetting how high her stress could run when she got like this, and how her body typically demanded she relieve her stress when it got this high…

No.

_Never_.

Sarada pulls herself together, lifts her chin, picks up her heels in one hand and her luggage in the other, and begins to trot through the house, past the living room, and toward the stairs. She resolved right then and there, that no matter how horny she got, she would never, _ever_ even _think_ about banging her best friend's stupid brother.

_EVER._

…Ever?

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**First chapter done! Don't know when the second will be up, but I'll start working on it as soon as possible. Reviews are cherished!**

**~M.H.C~**

**May all your~**

**Hearts beat with~**

**Calamity!**

**Till next time!**


	2. Entertainment Factor

**Welcome back! So many views, so many favorites, and only ONE review?! Much disappointment! Come on, there's got to be something you guys want to say about the story. :P**

**Fair warning, this chapter gets naughty _immediately_. Ready yourself!**

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As embarrassed as Sarada would feel about it later, she simply could not help herself. The third floor of Himawari's fancy little home was filled with the scent of steam and rosy body wash, and the sound of water hissing ceaselessly from the master bathroom connected to a guest room on the far end of the hall. Sarada's suitcase had been thrown onto the bed and opened frantically, the contents splayed about as if it had been rummaged through. The bathroom door was wide open and every article of Sarada's business suit dress was collected in a sloppy pile on the sink counter. And sealed into the shower with her back against the cold shower wall, one leg propped up with her foot pressed against the glass shower door was Sarada herself, madly fingering herself.

She gasps and pants, her face flushed and her body trembling as two slender digits press and slide and spread and tease herself open while the hot and heavy beads of water rain steadily on her belly and crotch. Her eyes start to tilt up toward the ceiling and her chest heaves as she carries herself up the steep cliff that was her threshold for pleasure, a treacherous climb that she put more energy into traversing than anything else in recent memory.

_After all this shit…_ she thinks to herself, thoughts briefly going to static as her fingers delve into her own tight tunnel all the way to the second knuckle. _I deserve this…_

Sarada allows herself to moan, close her eyes, and let her mind run wild. As reality outside the shower seems to fade in a heated fog, Sarada imagines that her fingers are not her own. She imagines both her hands gripped at the wrist and pinned above her head by a handsome yet formless stranger with a devilish smile and naughty fingers teasing and tickling her tight little twat.

_Fuck…_

Just the thought makes her entire body crawl. She fights the urge to stop and squirm, continuing to forge ahead, trying to pace herself and let the fantasy last… Warm lips brush her shoulder. Teasing teeth nibble at her collar, and the imaginary stranger's skilled tongue journeys slowly up Sarada's neck as he keeps her bound by the wrists and persists in his merciless fingering. She puckers her lips, then drops her jaw and she sighs, almost able to feel the powerful tongue invading her mouth.

In her mind, a stern and… oddly… familiar… voice rings out in her head and orders her to turn around. Sarada immediately obeys, taking her foot off the shower door and turning over, bringing herself forward to smoosh her little breasts and one soft cheek against the cold shower walls, letting the sudden shock shudder through her nerves. Both hands fold between her legs desperately for a moment, but she eventually brings one back up to palm the wall, while the other continues its mad dance between her petals.

The heavy beads of shower water now wash and patter down over her supple rear, making it all too easy for Sarada to envision her imaginary lover teasingly slapping his thick meat against her flesh. His fingers continue to work agonizingly slow against her tender button while he prods and pokes her holes with his length like the cruel tease he is. Her heart pounds quickly and loudly with excitement as he edges closer to claiming her, sliding between her thighs and pressing his warm lips close to her ear.

"You want it bad, don't you?" echoes Boruto's voice, the image of his smug face grinning, his musky cologne filling her nostrils, and—

Wait. What? No.

Sarada goes rigid immediately, and her blushing face goes from furrowed with pleasure to wide-eyed with shock, and a fair bit of discomfort. Her fingers come away from her body and she squeezes her eyes shut tightly as she runs her fingers through her head. She _really _just thought about Boruto in her sexual fantasy…

Sarada bites her lip, reaching up to pull the shower head from its ring, and sliding it between her legs as quickly as she can. The warm water gushing directly onto her sensitive petals causes her mind to fog with pleasure, and she madly hurries herself to a powerful release, turning her legs to jelly and nearly causing her to collapse onto the floor of the shower. She palms the wall to steady herself, and keeps the shower head right where it is, until she goes numb. Slowly and shakily, she staggers out of the shower, wobbles out of the bathroom, and collapses right onto the guest bed, dripping wet and greatly disturbed.

0o0

She wakes up after her nap to the sound of her growling stomach, groaning as she sits up and rummages lazily through her bag before huffily tying her soppy hair back into a somewhat presentable ponytail. Her favorite black sports bra comes out of her suitcase, with the U&amp;H International logo of a red-and-white fan surrounded by a thick white circle on the back of it. She tugs on a pair of tight black shorts as well, and briefly considers going downstairs in just that. Then she remembers that _he's_ downstairs.

Sarada shakes her head, tugging on a pair of pajama pants as well, before heading back downstairs. Glancing out a window, she finds the evening has disappeared and it's as dark as midnight. A glance at the clock confirms she's spot on. Twelve o' nine at night.

Sure enough as she steps into the living room, Boruto is in the exact same place he was before, actually listening to the television now that the stereo's off. She can feel his eyes drift in her direction as she walks past him toward the kitchen, and ignores the heat rising to her face.

_No no no no no._ She growls her thoughts to herself as she tries to force her recent shower out of her head, taking a half-filled bowl of Hamburger Helper out of the fridge, just as Himawari had told her about, and crossing her arms after setting it in the microwave and waiting for it to warm up.

Sarada sighs and turns her head back toward the living room idly, but is stunned to find that Boruto has actually risen from his seat and is now leading against the archway into the kitchen, just eyeing her over. Unable to respond at first, and certainly unable to hide the blush glowing brightly on her cheeks now, Sarada merely stares, reminding herself that he's just like all the other obnoxious 'rock stars' out there. He's an egotistical man-child, and this crush she has on him is silly.

Crush? What? What crush? Sarada grits her teeth and shakes her head, trying to put on a genuine glare.

"Can I help you with something?"

Boruto smirks lightly. "You know, you're really interesting. There aren't many people out there who actively _pretend_ not to be into me."

"Don't be ridiculous," Sarada huffs as she takes her warmed-over food toward the couch. "Not only are you and your music insufferably annoying, but you're Himawari's brother. Wouldn't that be weird?"

"Pfft," Boruto scoffs, dropping down onto the couch beside her. "Please. I've slammed plenty of Hima's friends. Wouldn't be _that_ weird."

"Ugh…" Sarada sneers, starting to stand up. She'd just decided she'd take her food upstairs when he catches her wrist and stops her.

"Oh, come on! It was a joke! I'm not sleazy."

She turns to glare at him. "Aren't you? Well, what's with all the staring and the eyeing me up and down and whatnot?"

Boruto shrugs. "I said I'm not sleazy. I didn't say I'm not honest. You're a beautiful girl, simple as. If you weren't, I'd have no reason to stare at you."

He gives her a simple matter-of-fact look, and Sarada's lost for a response. Finally, she shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

"Hmph! And I suppose you bragging about yourself and how big you are was a joke, too?"

Boruto blinks, and takes a moment to consider his answer. "I guess it depends on what you mean. If you mean 'big' as in famous, then yeah, it was _kind of _a joke. I mean, statistics and sales say I'm pretty popular among my demo, one of the top new artists for H-Rec, and that's not something my dad can just buy for me, you know. But what I'm like on stage isn't what I'm really like typically. I don't brag or show off very much. There's a _lot_ better places than my sister's house for me to be if I was like that."

"What do you mean?" Sarada asks, tilting her head and continuing to glare at Boruto as she sits down on the couch again. "I thought you said you were honest. But you're a fake on the stage?"

Boruto furls his brows. "You make it sound bad. Almost _every_ artist nowadays is a caricature of him or herself on stage. Not all rockers are druggie maniacs that spend their free time trashing hotel rooms, being assholes, and fucking anything with a skirt and a pulse. Not all rappers are thugs, killers, and gang members who own six guns, seven bitches, and eight pounds of weed. Very _few_ actually fit the stereotype. It's part of the entertainment factor."

As impressed as Sarada is with how articulate he is… she's too stubborn not to keep prodding at him.

"Entertainment? You mean money. Appeal to the highest common denominator, get more dollars rolling in."

Boruto shakes his head again. "You make this sound a lot worse than it really is. A good artist has to be a good actor, too. Do you hate actors on TV and in films? They do the same thing. Most of them make money and appeal to audiences by being someone they aren't. Does that make them bad people, or 'fake'?"

Sarada opens her mouth, then leaves it open upon the realization of how good a point he made… She looks away, and cringes when he drapes an arm over her shoulder.

"You don't have to like rock music, but don't automatically typecast a musician just by their music. Who knows, maybe an artist who you really like and who makes pretty music and love songs is actually a huge jerk in real life. I've met a couple of artists like that." Slowly, he starts to smirk. "Now… if by 'big', you meant _'big'_, well then… that may be for _you_ to find out, if you want to."

Fuck. He's put on almost the exact same voice Sarada imagined in the shower. She bites her lip, unsure what to think or how to feel anymore… The heat once again rushes to her face, and with him smirking at her, there was nothing she could do to hide it anymore. She gets up from the couch and moves back toward the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge and retrieving a can of beer. She pops the tab off and spends several moments guzzling the can down while Boruto watches.

Once the first can is totally emptied, she sighs and tosses it away before grabbing another and moving back toward the couch.

"…Just let me eat first," she mutters without looking at him, popping the second tab.

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**Thanks again for reading! Pleeeeeeease leave a review this time? All the views and favorites are awesome, and I love them a lot, but nothing warms my heart more than to read some kind words or constructive criticism! :3 Hopefully I'll get some more this time around!**

**~M.H.C~**

**May all your**

**Hearts beat with**

**Calamity!**


	3. My Best Friend's Brother

On the table in front of them was an empty bowl, four empty cans of beer, a television remote, a pair of red-rimmed glasses, and a tablet connected to a folded pair of Beats headphones. TMZ still chattered away on television, but the volume had been turned way down and the stereo blasting rock music had been turned off completely. The two of them had gotten rather comfortable, with Boruto reclining back against one arm of the couch, with Sarada on top of him, blushing brightly and kissing him madly, with her pajama pants down to her knees.

She couldn't believe it had only taken her four beers and an hour of talking about her problems to say 'Fuck it.' If her addled mind was going to throw her inhibitions to the wind just because he was a good talker, she at least assumed she would have to be hammered for it. But before she knew it, she was all over him, and she couldn't stop herself.

_Damn me and my needy body…_ she grumbles softly in her head, while her mouth could only deliver lusty moans while it busily mashes itself against Boruto's. The blonde rocker's hands waste no time going right for her ass, pawing slowly over the thin fabric of her tight shorts for several long and greedy moments before his firm touch travels up her sides across the back of her sports bra, and through her long, free hair.

Her hairband had been the first to go, and the way her hair tickled the back of her neck and her bangs naturally tended to fall over one eye made her feel like a different person, and more exposed than she expected it to. Seeing her go from stern and cross to blushing and bashful was an amusing experience for Boruto, and led Sarada to pouncing on top of him to get him to keep taking her seriously.

Her hands squeeze his shoulders as his hand grip gently at her hair, and it takes Sarada a couple of moments to get the message that he wants her to pull away. She does so with a small gasp for breath and a series of soft pants as they stare at each other.

"What'd you say your job was again?" Boruto asks, brushing her hair back slightly in order to see both her eyes.

"I'm a paralegal… I do lawyer-stuff for real lawyers," she responds, frowning at his amused expression.

"Huh. Interesting," he chuckles before turning her over slightly on top him. His hands drift down again to tug her pajama bottoms down past her knees, and Sarada does the rest of the work, kicking them off to the floor as she glares at Boruto, ignoring the hand sliding across her hip.

"What's that supposed to mean? You think that just because I'm in the legal business, I can't be horny?"

"Didn't say that."

"But you were thinking it, weren't you? Listen, mister, you lavish artists aren't the only people in the world who can have fun!" Sarada hiccups before continuing. "I'll have you know that I've had… an adequate quantity of sex, even during my time at the firm. I drink, I dance around sometimes. I could probably shake my ass better than any of those little groupies you probably have around you on the road. So you just… watch it!"

All the while, Sarada remains completely oblivious to Boruto slowly squirming her around and turning her completely over to lay face-up atop him with her toned rear nestled comfortably against the front of his leather pants. He listens to her silently, the smile unable to leave his face, and he finally lets out the laugh he was holding in when she finishes.

"God, you're funny when you're drunk. I bet if I met you when you when we were still impressionable teens, you'd be one of those little groupies on the road with me, instead of whatever it is you just said. What do you do again?"

"I swear, I'm gonna f- Uhnn."

Sarada cuts off her swear with a startled little coo, and lets her eyes half-lid as she gazes down at Boruto's fingers as they creep between her legs under her shorts. He adds a sudden lusty nip to the side of her neck, quickly kissing away the stinging pain right after and running his tongue along her now sensitive, tingling flesh. Sarada's train of thought jumps the tracks, and while Boruto's hand keeps busy, he chuckles at the look on her face as she tries to pull it back into the station.

"You're gonna fun, you say? Interesting syntax for a paralegal."

"Oh, shut up and keep going…"

And he gladly obliges. As Sarada's eyes slowly close, so do her thighs, and one of her legs start to shiver and bend as he puts a bit more pressure to his touch. Sarada could almost feel the smug, mischievous pride swelling in Boruto's chest as her back pushed against it and her spine slowly starts to arch, causing her hips to rise. The young rocker's fingers swirl against her moist, dewy lips before slowly retreating, and Sarada starts to settle her herself snugly against his lap again with a sigh.

She tries, anyway. Boruto's hands stop her from lowering herself too much just yet, and his thumbs hook into the sides of her shorts. Sarada's eyes open again and she lets out a soft gasp of surprise as she watches him slide her shorts down her hips and lift her legs as he yanks them up and off her ankles before allowing her to set her now-bare rear against his lap.

"N-Not what I expected…" Sarada murmurs, cooing softly again as one of his hands teases its way between her legs again while the other skims up her flat, toned belly to find her modestly-sized chest hidden beneath her sports bra.

"Guess I'm just full of surprises, huh?" Boruto teases her between nips at her neck. He stays where he is for a long, agonizing minute, and Sarada writhes at the pleasure warming her nerves.

"Fuck… _Fuck…_" she sighs, far too heated to properly retort. Her exclamation rises in volume in passion as the hand tucked between her legs travels up her belly as well to join the other, tugging her sports bra up her chest enough to expose both B-cup breasts to the warm air. Her legs shiver and bend, and her head tilts back against Boruto's shoulders as he skillfully plays his fingers against her nipples until they're perked enough to pinch between his fingers and tug…

In the foggy void of lust and pleasure, there's a spark of release, and like a struck match in a gas leak, it consumes her body in smoldering bliss and paralyzing ecstasy for a few moments that seem to last an eternity longer than the forced and hurried orgasm she rushed herself through upstairs in the shower, while her stubbornness still outweighed her horniness. The savvy rocker knows just what she needs, and lowers his touch again, to clutch under one of her knees with one hand and lewdly lift her leg, while the other plunges two fingers into her, forcing her to hold onto the high of release for just a few seconds more before she runs completely out of strength and goes limp atop him.

Sarada's head continues to swim freely with warmth for a long moment, and it takes effort for her to get herself together and lift her head again. With Boruto's help, she sits up fully for a moment and allows her bra to be pulled up over her head. The sudden complete sense of nakedness overwhelms her in her lust-addled sensitivity, and her arms fold briefly over her chest as she shivers and blushes.

His finger curls under her chin, and she blinks as he turns her head to look at her flushed, half-drunk, fully-aroused expression for a moment before cupping the back of her head to guide her into a deep, eager kiss. Their bodies move and squirm lightly against each other as their tongues do between their mouths, and after a few moments, Sarada gasps as she's suddenly grabbed and lifted into the air at the same moment Boruto turns to swing his legs off the couch and rise to his feet. Sarada feebly kicks and squirms her naked body as Boruto hauls her up onto his shoulder.

"H-Hey, I can walk! I'm not some coy little teenager, I'm twenty-five years old! Put me down!"

Boruto replies with a scoff and a brief swat on the ass, enough to make her tense and squeak, settling down reluctantly as he carries her up the stairs.

"Ah, cut it out," he chuckles. "Aren't you the one who's all stressed and annoyed from this shitty trip of yours? I'm just helping you out. I sure as hell don't know what being a paralegal means, but the way you make it seem sounds like you deserve to be off your feet for a night."

Sarada goes silent for a few moments before sighing defeatedly and relaxing on his shoulder as he carries her up to the third floor, to the last door down the hall as she directs him.

"Sorry about the mess… You can just put it on the floor, I'll gather it all up again in the morning," she murmurs as Boruto steps inside and lifts a brow at her open suitcase and clothes sloppily strewn about the bed.

"It's not my room, no need to apologize to me. Looks like you were in a hurry for something," he says, adjusting his grip on her before tossing her onto the cleaner side of the bed and scooping up her luggage to set it all beside the bed.

"I showered a few hours ago. Really needed to unwind," she explains, before eyeing him over and furrowing her brows. "How is it that I'm ass-naked and you're still _fully_ dressed? The least you could do is take off your jacket, you know."

He smirks and nods, standing at the edge of the bed beside her and shrugging his black jacket off his shoulders and allows it to be the first of his clothes to fall to the floor. Beneath those loose sleeves was a simple short-sleeved tee that revealed slim, yet toned and powerful musculature and a noticeable tattoo of the Hokage Records &amp; Co. logo on his right bicep: a spiral pattern with an angled tail at the outer end and a triangle shape along the lower-left part of it.

"That do anything for you?" he asks as he climbs onto the bed, looming over her and peering down at her blushing face before ducking in to kiss a trail up her neck.

"Ugh, yes. I'm _soaking_ wet at how much of a gentleman you are," Sarada moans half-sarcastically, closing her eyes and letting out a trembling sigh as he finds a sensitive spot behind her ear to nip at. He lowers himself from his hands to his elbows on either side of her, nibbling at her earlobe before his trail turns downward.

Boruto doesn't waste any time, and keeps a quick pace kissing down her neck, across her collarbone, and briefly settling his face against her chest to lick and suckle her stiff, tender peaks. He licks a smooth trail down her belly and eventually runs his tongue right up against her mound, searching for and quickly finding the sensitive bead crowning her delicate lips.

The world goes up in a flash of sparks around Sarada's head again, and she lifts her trembling, squirming hips and sighs out needy moans as Boruto gives her what she needs. After a burst of release just a minute ago from his fingers, she'd definitely be more sensitive and receptive to his tongue.

Sarada suspends herself in her world of haze and pleasure for as long as her weakened legs allow her, and when her hips fall back down, Boruto lifts his head and sighs.

"Well, you're certainly soaking wet, I'll tell you that," he teases. "Ready?"

Sarada nods and slowly begins to sit up to squint and watch as he undoes his pants and tugs them and his shorts down only just enough to reveal himself to her.

Sarada was too drunk and heated to closely examine his size, not to mention her glasses were still downstairs, but she usually knew big when she saw it, and despite the whole world being slightly hazy, she could safely say he was big enough. Her patience runs thin and her eagerness runs high, and Sarada immediate rolls over to sit up on her hands and knees facing away from him. He doesn't waste a second, either, and shifts forward to take one of her hips in hand while he slowly lined himself up.

As he slowly begins to push into her and fill her body, every annoyance and every ounce of lingering stressful thoughts begin to evacuate her mind. Her eyes glaze slightly and her jaw falls to let loose a long, hot sigh as his thighs press snugly against her rear, thrusting right to the hilt before he pulls back and begins his rhythm.

Sarada's jaw fall open, and noise pours free without her even meaning it as she's steadily rocked back and forth, heat and pleasure surging through her form with each of Boruto's powerful motions. Amidst the sea of pleasure, there's a little part of Sarada that is still utterly flabbergasted that it got to this point. She's bending over for her best friend's rocker brother, who's lax and annoying, despite being a decent talker and listener. She folded so easily after firmly telling herself she wouldn't cross that line.

A much, _much_ larger part of Sarada didn't give a _single_ fuck about anything she promised herself before now. After everything that's gone wrong on this nightmare of a business trip, from the shitty flights to the food poisoning, things could be much worse than they are right now. She deserves as much pleasure as she can get to end this trip off…

"H-Harder…"

Her heated, racing mind goes blank as he begins to tug on her hair with one hand, certainly not hard enough to hurt uncomfortably, but enough to tilt her head back and really make her shiver with the sensation. His pace also roughened as time passed, such that her moans eventually turned into loud, passionate hisses and groans through her teeth.

She occasionally glances behind her, noting that despite his overall calm expression, his face was just as heated as hers. Between the time they started and the first time she glances behind her, he had pulled off his shirt without her realizing it, and the sight of him made her ache with arousal. She may not have liked his music, but Sarada could definitely appreciate a fine body when she saw it. Past his douchey stance and teasingly snarky personality, he was a handsome man who took amazing care of himself.

His grip eventually slackens on her hair, and both hands drift up her hips to cup her breasts, while his pace begins to slow to a steady, gentler rhythm as he pulls her up to just her knees, for her sweaty back to meet his firm chest, and his lips capture her ear once again as he grinds firmly up against her. She feels him twitching inside her, and his quiet, warm groans against her ear sends a tingle of excitement down her back.

"You just about there yet?" she pants softly, smirking at him.

"Just about… Don't worry, I'll pull out," he answers her as he tweaks and tugs tenderly at her nipples as he'd done downstairs.

"Ah… Pull out and lay down," she mutters between soft pants, sighing for a long moment of rest as he obliges her. Sarada pulls her hair back away from her face, and she gazes off to the side as he moves along the bed to rest his head on one of the pillows. Her hazy vision travels up and down his form, and she turns to face him, reaching to pull his pants and shorts down and away.

Sarada looks back and smirks at the curious look Boruto gives her as she faces away and climbs over him, straddling his chest and swaying her hips in his face.

"Don't think I'm just gonna do all the work. Make that mouth of yours useful again," she huffs, looking forward again and gazing down the length of his shaft, slick with her fluids and swollen with imminent release.

Sarada closes her eyes and leans down to slowly run her tongue up from his base to his tip, moaning out as she feels his own lips kissing and lapping at her dewy petals and her sensitive little bead. The pair of them tantalize each other with the teasing touch of their tongues for a long few moments before they decide at once that they've drawn each other out for more than long enough.

As Sarada dips her head and fills her mouth with him, he presses his lips lightly to her own and sinks his tongue as far as it will reach into her welcoming channel, causing both their hips to tremble against each other, and before long, both of them to throb against each other's mouths as well.

The sharp snap of release and the explosion of pleasure claims Sarada once again, and as her mind fills with pure ecstatic pleasure once again, her mouth fills with the unique flavor of hot seed, and her eyes squeeze shut as she swallows down everything he gives her. The sexual high lasts for several long, fantastic moments before there's a dramatic collapse as Sarada rolls off to the side and lets out a heavy sigh, totally exhausted and totally satisfied.

Several moments of comfortable silence pass, and Sarada doesn't remember opening her eyes again. She drifts off, forgetting everything outside of the room, forgetting all of her problems and issues with this trip. Looking back on it, from then to now… it could've been a lot worse.

* * *

**I'm sorry this took so long to get out. :( You have no idea how much I struggled through this. But I promised I wouldn't push Eleven Fifty-Four forward until I got this chapter and the epilogue done, so I can call Could Be Worse complete!**

**Dunno how proud I am of this chapter, since I strained myself getting all 3000 words down... But I got it done! I'm happy about that, and I think it's pretty good nonetheless. Hopefully, you readers think the same!**

**There's gonna be a short little epilogue after this that I'm gonna post later, but until then~**

**~M.H.C~**

**May all your~**

**Hearts beat with~**

**Calamity~!**

**Till next time!**


	4. Luv u bbq

The coaxing chime of her cell phone's alarm slowly begins to stir Sarada from her deep, dreamless slumber, and she slowly opens her eyes to groan lowly and weakly deny and lament her existence to the world around her.

The chiming eventually stops, and Sarada's eyelids begin to flutter closed again and sink back into her world of peace and darkness… Just before she gets to sleep, the phone rings again in a different tone. As soon as she recognizes the ringtone and realizes who's calling, she snaps her eyes open and sits straight up in bed, frantically crawling over the groaning lump under the covers beside her and nearly tumbling off the bed leaning over to burrow through her suitcase to find her phone and answer it.

"H-Hello?"

"_Sarada, you didn't come home last night, and you didn't answer any of our calls. We were worried about you."_

Sarada gulps and slowly crawls back across the bed to slip under the covers again. She knew she forgot something last night… Now she was tired _and_ she felt bad.

"Ugh, I'm really sorry, Papa… This trip has just been hell, and to top it all off, the snow last night cancelled my flight, so I had to stay over at a friend's house. I'll be home by this evening, and I'll call you in a few hours right before I get on the plane. You and Mama won't _believe_ the story I have to tell you when I get home…"

Sasuke chuckles on the other end of the line. _"It's alright, Sarada. Just check your phone more often, and take it easy. It sounds like it's been a long few days for you. Call when you're back on the ground, and your mother will be there to pick you up."_

"Alright, Papa. Love you."

Sarada hangs up and sighs tiredly, setting her phone on the nightstand nearby and laying her head back down on the pillows.

"Sleep well?" yawns a voice beside her, and Sarada glances over, blushing at the sight of Boruto's bare upper body, and the resurgence of memories about what they did last night while she was drunk and horny…

Sarada hardens herself and crosses her arms, making sure her whole body is concealed by the sheets as she looks up at the ceiling again. "Yeah, sure. Slept great. Guess you're pretty proud of yourself right now?"

He smirks and shrugs, running his fingers through his hand before folding his arms behind his head and leaning back against the headboard. "I had fun. And I could tell you were having fun, too. No point in being pouty and stubborn about it now."

Sarada tilts her chin and huffs, but her stony mask doesn't hold against Boruto's prodding fingers tickling up her sides, and she squirms and whines.

"Come on, come on. Admit you had a good time," Boruto chuckles as Sarada fights him off.

"Fine, fine! I-It was the best sex I've had in a while! Now quit it!"

Boruto lifts a brow and grins as he pulls away. "Wow, was it really? _Now_ I'm feeling pretty proud of myself."

Sarada gives Boruto a push on the shoulder and rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Better savor the memory, I highly doubt we'll have another chance meeting like this."

"When are you heading to the airport?"

"My flight's booked for 2:00 this afternoon."

Boruto scoffs and smirks. "It's 9:00, the airport's twenty minutes away, and I've already got morning wood. We've got time for another round, if you're down."

Sarada pauses, taken aback for a moment, before she shakes her head and glares at Boruto again. "What? Don't be ridiculous! I already don't know if I can look Himawari in the eye today. Whenever she came home last night, I'm sure she saw my nightclothes on the floor downstairs and connected the dots about what happened. I couldn't fuck her brother again knowing that she's asleep in a room nearby, already mortified that her best friend would do such a thing, or even _worse_, that she's awake, and would be able to _hear_ us. That's just-"

Sarada pauses at the sound of her phone buzzing, and quickly goes to grab it again, in case it was one of her parents texting her for something, or another important message. Sarada instead finds a text from Himawari, with more coming in as she reads it.

**Hima: **Hey Sarada! Sry I didnt come home last night. You rmmbr that cute guy w/ the bowl cut I told u I met the gym? He was the club! We talked &amp; danced 4 a while &amp; got drunk. Then he took me back 2 his place &amp; we played checkers &amp; watched some Lifetime.

**Hima:** Im kidding, he fucked me. LOL ;3 Ill give u deets when I get home. Chocho gotta bring my car &amp; pick me up. Will be there in like a couple hrs. Hope Bolts not bugging u 3 much.

**Hima: **2* much

**Hima: **Anyway talk 2 u soon! Luv u bbq xoxo

The last text Sarada receives from Himawari is an attachment, and she opens it to find a selfie of Himawari sitting up in a bed with the sheets drawn up to cover her bare chest, using her free hand to hold up two fingers in a victory sign next to her face.

Sarada stares for several long moments at the picture, processing what she had read and what she was seeing with a completely silent, deadpan expression. After some time, she turns her phone completely off, and sets it back on the nightstand before turning to look at a curious Boruto.

"Know what? I'm suddenly horny," she says, throwing the covers off the both of them to fully bare their nude bodies to each other. Boruto's wide grin returns, and he gladly allows Sarada to kiss him deeply as she climbs into his lap and positions herself atop his aforementioned morning wood.

Sarada's face lights up brighter as she slowly lowers her hips, and as she sinks down and fills herself with cock, pleasure floods her form again, and the fresh memories and images of what she'd just read and seen already begin to fade away and leave her mind…

0o0

It was half past noon when Sarada was finally ready. Hot morning sex and a hot morning shower really has a way of refreshing a person, and Sarada steps downstairs dragging her stuffed suitcase with her, wearing a long, thick grey sweater dress under a heavy jacket and black boots, a knitted cap, and mittens, smiling and relaxed, almost completely unlike the tense frown she had been wearing for almost the entirety of the trip.

"Hima just told me she's pulling up, so I guess I'm gone," Sarada says as she turns to Boruto, who follows her down the steps with a casual t-shirt and shorts on. Unlike Sarada, Bolt had no plans of going outside.

"You live in Oto, yeah?" he asks with a yawn, leaning against the wall. "I've got a concert there coming up in about a month from now, and I could easily get you a backstage pass if you wanna come."

Sarada raises a brow at Boruto and shakes her head. "Just because we fucked and I liked it doesn't mean I suddenly like your music now, you dope."

Boruto simply smirks. "Who said anything about my music? I just want you backstage. You and a few groupies. Then we can see if what you said about being a better ass-shaker wasn't just drunk gloating."

She _did_ say that… Sarada blinks for a moment before rolling her eyes and laughing, setting her hands on her hips. "Well, in _that_ case, I'll think about it, if I can fit it in my schedule. See you."

"Later," Boruto says with a wave, pushing off the wall and heading into the living room as Sarada moves toward the front door.

After a long trip full of bullshit and unexpected pleasantries, Sarada expected to open the door and see Himawari's Prius, the silver chariot that would finally whisk her away down the start of the road toward home and relaxation in her own bed again. Instead, she encounters yet another obstacle that she'd forgotten about: Chocho.

"I _know_ you didn't call me 'Slinky' last night," the feisty plus-sized model says with a playfully aggressive squint at Sarada, while Himawari stands bundled up in her coat and mittens a little ways down the walk, holding a camera and recording the whole thing.

There's a moment's pause before Sarada realizes there's no choice but to play it up and play along, and she smirks and responds, "Sure did. Wanna fight about?" as she raises her fists.

Chocho puts up her dukes as well, and the two of them circle each other threateningly on the steps for a few moments before Chocho lunges first and tackles Sarada into the snow, turning the who thing into a squirming, struggling, purely good-natured wrestle in the snow, while Himawari stands off to the side, hyping it up with cheers and chants of "WorldStar! WoooooorldStar!" every few seconds.

She was cold and wet and uncomfortable, her hair was now a mess, and she was pretty sure she flashed her panties under her sweater dress at least two times to Himawari's camera as she and Chocho went at it in the snowy yard. But they were all laughing and having a good time, and Sarada had a concert she now had to pencil in, apparently.

Despite everything that went wrong on this shitty business trip, Sarada was perfectly content. Things almost couldn't be better at that moment. It certainly could be worse.

* * *

**Thanks for reading, guys! I had a blast writing out this epilogue, and I hope you had a blast reading this short little ficlet all the way through! Sorry this took me soooo long to complete, but it's finally done, and I'm proud of it. :3**

**Don't know what I'm going to be working on next besides Eleven Fifty-Four, but follow me anyway, to keep up with my Naruto story updates and new Naruto stories I'm going to be doing in the future. Constructive criticism is always welcome! Anything you think I can improve on in future stories, be sure to let me know!**

**~M.H.C~**

**May all your~**

**Hearts beat with~**

**Calamity~!**

**Till next time!**


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